I nod and roll back into his embrace. We fit together so perfectly. Pravat strokes my hair for a long time until, finally, his hand drops and his breathing evens out in sleep.
I wait until I’m sure I won’t wake him before sliding from the bed and slipping out the glass door to stand on the balcony. With the cool night air kissing my skin, I stare out at the tranquil dark water of the Chao Phraya.
I know I need to go see my father before he hears I’m back in Thailand, but I push that aside, concentrating on how much calmer I feel. My physical reaction to Pravat hasn’t diminished—there’s no denying that I want him, but just lying in his arms had given me something I very much needed.
With a sigh, I lean against the wrought iron balcony, remembering how I slid my mouth down the soft skin of Pravat’s chest during one of the love scenes we filmed. At the time, I was very aware of all the eyes on us, but I also took in every sensation of theexperience—a small taste of what it might be like to make love with a man. Great, now I’m even more aroused. I accept the torment as a kind of punishment—I shouldn’t be thinking about my friend this way, and I definitely don’t deserve pleasure from it.
I don’t realize Pravat is behind me until he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.
When I jerk in surprise, he murmurs sleepily, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you heard the door open. Can’t sleep?”
“No,” I say. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I rolled over and you were gone,” he says.
I can’t help smiling at how that sounds like something a lover would say.
“Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?” Pravat asks, andfuck.He’s probably offering tea or maybe a back rub, but the fact that I can feel every line of his body against mine has dragged my thoughts into the gutter.
Lifting his chin from my shoulder, Pravat says softly, “Rama?”
When I don’t answer, he withdraws, arm accidentally brushing against the head of my swollen cock in the process. I suck in a sharp breath of air, and he goes completely still behind me.
“Pravat, please,” I manage to murmur. At that moment, I don’t care what it means that I want him or what the consequences will be. I simply need him to touch me because he’s Pravat and I’m Rama and we both want this.
Pravat’s breathing picks up next to my ear.
“Rama, I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
“Yes, you do,” I say entreatingly, and when his arms encircle me again, I hold my breath, waiting.
Slowly, Pravat slides a warm hand beneath the thin T-shirt I’m wearing, lightly stroking my abdomen with his fingers. I’m shaking,I’m so turned on by this man. When his hand comes in contact with my aching cock, a strangled moan rises from my throat, and it only takes a few strokes of his warm palm to send my world spinning.
Shuddering in his arms, I lean my head back, and Pravat kisses my forehead. When he begins to pull away, I grab his arm and slowly bring his fingers to my mouth, licking them off one by one, ending with my tongue swirling over his trembling palm.
“Rama,” the word breaks from his lips, and I turn around, clasping his face between my hands.
“Kiss me,” I say desperately. Without hesitation, he covers my mouth with his, taking me apart inch by inch with lips and tongue. I can feel how hard he is against my thigh, and I push against him, swallowing the deep moan I draw from his throat. He pushes back, and we grind against each until he cries out brokenly between my lips and melts into my arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Pravat
The feel of Rama’s tongue between my fingers blows away the last fragments of my already rocky control, and the next thing I know, our tongues are sliding together and I’m rutting against his leg, pleasure building, until I come in my pajama pants like I’m fourteen again.
Gradually, my body calms and I ease away, stepping out of his embrace.
“Let’s go inside and clean up.”
Standing together at the kitchen sink washing our hands, Rama’s bare arm brushes mine and I notice how hot the skin is.
“Does your sunburn hurt?” I ask him.
“A little,” he admits.
Reaching for a bottle of aloe vera from a nearby cabinet, I squirt some into my palm and smooth it over Rama’s arms before dabbing a bit on his nose and cheeks.
“I must have sat in the park for hours,” he says. “It didn’t seem like that long. I’ve been living in a fog the past week or so.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.”